


Retribution

by SgtBarnes107



Series: Retrieval [2]
Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Not Beta Read, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgtBarnes107/pseuds/SgtBarnes107
Summary: Quinn gets revenge for Peggy's abduction
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, Peggy Milbank/Mr. Quinn, Sophie Devereaux/Nathan Ford
Series: Retrieval [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987399
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Retribution

**Author's Note:**

> I tried, so hard, to make this dark. But apparently I'm unable to write torture scenes. Guess I should be happy about that.
> 
> Not beta'd.

Sweat trailed down the back of his neck. His breathing was labored as he rushed to pack all his belongings into his Smart car. He wasn't sure how they had tracked him down so quickly, even with Alec Hardison's skills. He should've been far enough away, hidden away at an undisclosed location, long before now. 

If Quinn was working with Hardison and his crew, his chances to escape were zilch. Eliot Spencer was THE retrieval specialist. He had never failed. There was no security system or building that could keep Parker out. Hardison had already drained his accounts. All of them. Even the ones that had zero ties to him. His name and aliases had been added to every country's "Do Not Fly" lists. Not that he had money now to buy a ticket. 

He was trapped. Like a rat. Some would say that was a fitting analogy. 

He could feel Quinn getting closer by the second. His heart pounded so fast he just knew it would fly out of his chest. His stomach heaved but there was nothing left to expel. 

Colin Mason was a dead man walking and he was well aware of that. 

******************************************************************************  
Hardison smirked as he watched the surveillance camera. The rat bastard who had hurt his friends was panicking. He wouldn't be surprised if he fell over dead before Quinn even walked into the room. 

For Quinn's sake, he hoped that wouldn't happen. Quinn had not gone into detail, at least not with him but who knew just how much Eliot knew what would happen, but had made Hardison swear to cut the video feed. He tried to get him to turn off the comms but Hardison refused to budge. At least until Eliot had sworn to watch Quinn's back. 

Chaos was a desperate man and you NEVER let down your guard around someone who had nothing to lose. 

Hardison jumped a little when his thief slipped her arm around his neck. Ever since Peggy had been kidnapped, both Eliot and Parker had clung to him a little harder. While he was more adept at self defense these days, he knew he was a soft target for anyone looking to settle a score. 

That was another reason Eliot was on board with helping Quinn. He wanted word to spread that his family, his partners, his lovers were under his protection. And that carried tremendous weight in their circles. It carried weight even when they were his team mates, his crew. He would've fought the hounds of hell to save them. Now, if anyone threatened their safety, he would be the hound of hell. 

Quinn sent a quick text to Sophie. She was staying with Peggy until he wrapped up this nasty business. Of course, where Sophie went. Nate was sure to follow. Once he received confirmation that Peggy was safe, he turned off his phone, took out his comm, and let his mind go to the darkest place. 

The only weapon he carried tonight was his Strider SMF knife. But in reality, he wanted to use his hands instead. Feel the bones crunch under his fists. Coating his skin in blood. 

Eliot had promised to pull him back if he got too close to the edge. He didn't plan to kill Chaos, just leave him a pulpy mess. 

Standing outside the last barrier between Chaos and him, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and released it. Feeling the calm that always blanketed him during a job. He slammed his boot into the door. The door flew open. He paused out in the hallway. Using standard technique, Eliot placed his hand on Quinn's shoulder as they moved to clear the apartment. 

Until only one small closet was left unchecked. It was so cliche it was pathetic. However, Quinn and Eliot both had survived by not making foolish assumptions. Anything or nothing could be behind those doors. 

Standing on opposite sides of the door, Quinn silently counted to three before pulling the door open. Once they were assured of no pending attack, they peered into the closet. Chaos laid, curled into the fetal position, back in the furthest corner. A coat hanging over the bulk of his frame. The pale skin between his socks and pants acting as a beacon for the smidge of light bleeding into the dark enclosure.

With his hands finally on the man who had orchestrated the abduction and torture of his lover, Quinn's face broke out into a smile. Albeit, a smile that was twisted with sinister intentions. 

He dragged him out of the closet by his ankles. Pulling hard enough that Chaos's head bounced off the wooden floor. Eliot positioned a single chair in the center of the room. Pulling zip ties out of one of his many pockets. Once secured, Quinn nodded for Eliot to leave. 

Once alone, Quinn pulled his Strider. The light glinting off the metal. 

"I once asked you, how many fingers you needed to type. Do you remember that conversation?" Quinn asked with a deliberate calmness in his voice. Masking the rage and hatred boiling in his blood. 

"Yes." Chaos replied unsteadily. Nerves coating every syllable. 

"You never answered me that day. So I guess I'll have to figure it out for myself."

The knife flashed as Quinn sliced off the left pinky. 

Chaos howled in pain as he looked at the severed finger lying on the cold floor. He had known Quinn would seek retribution but he had never pictured what that would entail. 

He was so focused on the pinky, he didn't see the knife coming down again. The right pinky joining it's twin on the floor. 

Blood dripped off the knife as Quinn scrutinized his handiwork. He buried the knife into the tendons of Chaos's right hand. Rendering the muscles useless. Tears streamed down Chaos's face, while spittle coated his lips and chin. 

Using his fists, Quinn pulverized his face. Remembering with vivid detail every bruise on Peggy's face. Repaying tenfold. He continued until Chaos's body slumped in the chair. His face was unrecognizable. Broken teeth on the floor. 

The darkness battled to consume Quinn. He had promised not to kill him. Yet the desire swamped him. Could he risk Chaos seeking retribution again one day? Last time, Quinn had pushed him over a ledge into a waterfall. This time, he had permanently maimed Chaos. 

Killing him would prevent a future attack and serve as a cold reminder to the world to not mess with him and what was his. 

It wouldn't take much. A skim of his knife across the throat. Thrusting his knife into his heart. Cutting off his hands and letting him bleed out. The myriad of ways to kill played over and over in his mind. Quinn pulled away. Pacing a path back and forth. 

He was so lost in thought he never heard Eliot enter the room. 

"Fuck man, what did you do?"

The knife was out of his hand, hurtling through the air towards Eliot, before he even realized what he had done. Bracing for an attack.

Eliot narrowly dodged the knife. Slipping into hitter mode. He danced back from the various punches. Looking for an opening to put Quinn down. He knew from prior experience, Quinn was a tough sonofabitch. That was Quinn in control of himself. 

He could imagine the damage he was capable of when unhinged. The fight continued until Quinn stumbled. Eliot seized the opportunity and with one punch, knocked him unconscious. 

Ignoring the severely beaten man tied to the chair, Eliot grabbed Quinn, hauling him over his shoulder, and slipped out into the night. Laying his friend across the cushioned seat of their van, he climbed inside. Both Parker and Hardison knew by his expression not to ask questions. 

Hours later, they pulled into the parking lot of a rundown motel. Hardison jumped out to rent a room. Quinn needed to clean up and decompress before going home to Peggy. 

They needed to decide what to do about Chaos as well. They couldn't leave him in that apartment, trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Especially if he was bleeding out. They were not murderers. 

Once Quinn started coming around, Eliot had Hardison and Parker run up to get take out. It was a convenient excuse to get them out of the line of fire if Quinn woke up in a fighting mood. 

Fortunately, the fire in his blood had burned out. He was subdued. Now all he wanted was to go home, wrap himself around his love, and remind himself she was safe. 

Once he had showered, they ate their tacos, decided to call in a wellness check with the police, and headed out. 

Later that night with his arms wrapped around Peggy, Quinn finally found peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read and commented. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
